


An Interlude

by OceanTheSoulRebel



Series: Escaping the Cage [7]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 00:52:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15401337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OceanTheSoulRebel/pseuds/OceanTheSoulRebel
Summary: Initially posted in my Dragon Age prompt fills set, before consolidating the Ilya Surana/Zevran timeline.





	An Interlude

**Author's Note:**

> Initially posted in my Dragon Age prompt fills set, before consolidating the Ilya Surana/Zevran timeline.

“What a handsome boy, yes you are. You look like you need a good belly rub, maybe some kisses.”

Zevran smiled as his hands stilled on his dagger. “That is an interesting way to put it, but I would never turn down an opportunity from such a beautiful woman.” His eyes raised to Ilya, who had bitten her lip to suppress her smile, her hands burrowed into the dog’s thick coat.

 _…Oh._ “Are you... you are talking to the dog.” Zevran quirked a brow at Ilya’s soft tones to the massive animal. At least, everyone said it was a dog. It could very well been a small ogre; he had seen it in battle, it was a fair estimation.

“He's a mabari, and he’s not just a dog; he’s intelligent.”

“More intelligent than Alistair, at any rate,” called Morrigan from the cooking fire. Barkspawn whuffed in response.

“Hey!”

“Be nice, you two,” Wynne admonished from behind her book, turning a page without looking up.

“’Tis true, and at least the mongrel attempts to be cute when he whines. Daily.”

“Hey!” Alistair rose to his feet, sputtering and scowling. “Ilya, I don’t whine, right? Tell her I don’t whine…?”

Ilya laughed into the Barkspawn’s scruff before returning to the fire, the mabari at her heels. “Barkspawn, what do you think, boy?”

The mabari whimpered and cocked his head.

Alistair sighed and slumped back to his seat, his hung head drawing Morrigan’s catty laughter. Ilya hid her smile behind her hand and shuffled closer to Zevran’s leg, her warmth seeping through the leather of his breeches where she brushed against him.

He watched the party from under hooded eyes, his gaze darting around the fire and back to the glinting blades of his daggers. It had not been long since he joined this rag-tag company, but… he was growing to like it. Sten’s surly but quiet presence was unnerving but comforting, at odds with Alistair’s nervous energy. Morrigan and Wynne were opposites of each other but both very strong women, powerful and deadly, and Leliana was quiet as a church mouse, watching them all with wide, attentive eyes.

And Ilya…

Ilya rested her head on his knee, the contact surprisingly intimate in its ease.

Yes… he could see himself staying. The Blight might last years, if history was to be repeated. Perhaps in time he could convince her to give him scratches behind his ears, and then other places…

It would be a worthwhile pursuit, he thought to himself with a smile. The dog would not be his rival for her affections for long.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on tumblr at [ocean-in-my-rebel-soul!](https://ocean-in-my-rebel-soul.tumblr.com)  
> 
> 
> Comments and concrit always appreciated! Thank you for reading!


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